Helpless
by FaeFolk
Summary: After a shocking ghost hunt, Dean and Sam follow what is supposed to be a peaceful lead to their next hunt. Over the Internet Sam finds a young girl calling out for help. Her father is a hunter, and she might be turning into the hunted. Pre Devil’s Trap.
1. Chapter 1

Dean and Sam follow a lead. Over the Internet Sam finds a young girl calling out for help. Her father is a hunter, and she might be turning into a creature. Pre Devil's Trap.

Chapter 1

Expanded Summery: Pre Devil's Trap (because I like John). In a blog made by 'Dr. Badass' Sam finds a young girl ailed by an authoritative father and something else… She realizes she is changing and sends a call for help. Can Sam and Dean save her before her father kicks her out—or kills her?

A/N: This is my first real story story… I've written stuff for school and small ideas that have been carefully wrapped and stored in closets, but never really had the courage to post one. If there is any lingo you don't understand just review!

Las Vegas, New Mexico… About A Year ago 

An old man was sleeping peacefully on a bed. There was a young woman in a nurse's uniform sitting peacefully by his bed, waiting for him to wake up. He was hooked up to an IV, and the steady _beep_ of the heart monitor assured the nurse that old Mr. Crinkle was still alive and sleeping.

The faucet in the bathroom was faulty. Ever since she had started working as the night nurse for old Mr. Crinkle it had dripped, the sound was monotones, and after a few failed attempts at fixing it, it had become a regular in her long nights here.

There was a creak in the room joining Mr. Crinkles, the nurse looked around, curious, because no one else lived in the old large, Georgian mansion.

The house once belonged to the governor of the little town in New Mexico, one of the many gold rush towns, but one of the few that actually held gold within its depths.

There was a smash down stairs, something was broken, the nurse quickly stood up and ran to the telephone, dialing 911. "There is someone in the house, something just broke downstairs. I think that it might be a robber." She gave the man on the other end the address and he told her to 'stay put' they would be 'right there'.

They got there just in time to hear a scream.

New York, New York—Present Day 

The room was dark. It was clear that there was a slight draft coming in from an open window. Outside the city was quiet, never silent, but quiet. A bright light flashed by and the hum of a car passed under. A girl sat on the edge of the broken fire escape. Her hair was a light brown that looked almost blonde when light hit it. Her green eyes spewing tears—leaving a light trail of mascara down her cheeks.

She shivered, and turned around climbing into her bedroom. The walls were a pale yellow, the room was filled with her childhood pastimes, a dollhouse, a small shelf of teddy, on the fireplace were pictures, one of her and two young boys, one of her father and mother, one of herself with her older sister when she was five.

Her room was large. She had to walk exactly forty steps to get from her window to her door on the far side that led to a hall. The house's hall was darker than her rooms, having no windows but a skylight one story up from her forth floor room. She stepped lightly down the carpeted floor, barley making a creak on the old floorboards. She stepped into the bathroom.

She looked in the mirror and gave a sad sigh before wiping her eyes and looking once again at her back. She closed her eyes and hurried quickly upstairs. It seemed as though the upstairs was slightly smaller than the rest of the house. There was an exercise room and two spare bedrooms on the top floor. She hurried to the exercise mirror, pushing one of the screws in the top she scooted into a hole in the wall that had just appeared.

She ran down the dimly lighted staircase, barley loosing any breath, until she reached an underground room, below the basement. She looked around, there was a wall chalked full of weapons and another staircase that lead up to the basement. On the other side there were several old books, she took her torch and scanned the titles before settling on one: _libro e animans magicus_.

   **SUPERNATURAL   **

Las Vegas, New Mexico…Present Day 

It was far too bright; the sun was shining in through the windshield, reflecting on the black car. Dean groaned. And then sneezed. Sam looked over at him worriedly.

"Bout time you woke up." Sam said. Just in time to pass a sign that said 'Welcome to Las Vegas! Pop. 3,796.'

"Dude, when you said we were going to Vegas I thought you meant something a little more…"

Sam looked at his brother incredulously, "Big? Casino filled, Bimbo central?"

Dean smiled cockily at his younger brother, staring him down despite the height difference, especially as his head was still resting on the window, he winked, "Maybe."

"And what Casino owner in their right mind would let you anywhere near their casino."

"What about you physic boy? I mean if we actually did go to Las Vegas…" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Sam smiled and rolled his eyes, "I use my freaky powers for good! Not your evil schemes to gain money off of innocent tycoons! Besides, its not like I can control it. And your s-" He was interrupted by a sneeze that practically moved the car coming from the seat next to him.

Dean scrunched up his face in an attempt to alleviate him self from the light, "So what kinda case we got down in li'l' old Las Vegas?"

"Routine haunting, maybe a poltergeist."

"Details?" Dean said while yawning.

"Uhhmm, the last incident there was a night nurse taking care of an old man… one Mr. Crinkle." Sam said while looking down at the papers he had been studying that were pressed against the steering wheel, "She called the cops, they got there too late, old man is dead, she screams, and disappears. They never found the body. There was family that used to live there in, like, the 1980's that had two children. One day the youngest one, a girl, just disappeared. Popular theory was that the brother killed her when his parents were away. Never found any proof, Parents said kidnapping, people said it was an accident or something that led to her subsequencent death. So his parents moved away, and people have continued disappearing, always in this month, the month she died, or disappeared. There haven't been any deaths until last year, but the old man might have just had a heart attack."

"So we got a closed timeframe?"

"Yep, if she doesn't kill someone before we get there."

They pulled up to a motel, walking inside they were greeted by an old man.

Dean gave him a credit card. "I'm Kevin Paltroniski, and this is my brother Garret, we need a room for a coupl'a nights." Dean smiled, as the old man handed him the keys.

As Dean left, Sam asked the old man where the nearest drug store was, as his brother was sick and needed antibiotics. Once Sam left, Dean collapsed on the bed, he hated to admit it but he was tired, emotionally, physically, he closed his eyes and sank into the hard pillows.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Las Vegas , New Mexico 

Sam prowled through the isles of the local Drug store, searching for some Diphen and Ibuprofen having run out of the drugs a about a hundred miles back. Dean had been popping them like an addict. He proceeded to the checkout counter with some bottled water, cheez-it's and of course the drugs.

Back at the motel room, Dean was still crashed, fast asleep, on the bed, having scarcely moved since Sam left him.

"Hey?" Sam said softly, "Dean? Dude…" he said a little louder then in a sing song voice he spoke into his ear "Deeeeeaaaaannnn!"

Dean sat up with a start, immediately regretting the action as his head split open with a headache. His vision became purple and he gently lay back down and opened his eyes to see a slightly shamefaced Sam Winchester grimacing down at him. "Morning Sunshine."

"Sorry Dean, I got some meds and munchies." He put the bag on the desk, leaning on it. "Anyway, I was thinking that maybe I could hit the library while you do some more research here on our ghostie and it's family."

"Yeah, sure that's fine." Dean said. Internally he felt like he had been sucker punched when his back was turned. Sam was protecting him. It was so obvious and yet it seemed wrong. "Call me if you're going to go to the house ok dude?" Dean said as Sam was just closing the door behind him.

"Yeah, sure."

Idly Dean's eyes roved around the room, taking in the few items that scarcely furnished the place.

The room was an odd purple. There were pictures of some mountain in the Rockies in various different seasons. They were all of the same angle and the same mountain quite frankly they were driving Dean mad.

"Y'know, I have half a mind to just smash them and screw over the motel owner. I mean honestly… it's like twelve identical pictures in different lights." Dean said as Sam walked into the room.

"_Dean_" Sam said as a warning.

Dean sighed and flopped down on his pink, frilly bed. "So-you got anything?"

"Basically just what I told you before, James Cox, the brother, is who I think the murderer is. He killed his little sister, Gertrude, then became insane, his parents checked him into a mental institution in Nebraska. They said it was because he had gone off the deep end after Gertrude disappeared… I'm thinking homicide then cover-up."

"Yeah, so where is lil' ol' Jamesy buried."

"I, uh, I don't know."

Dean raised his eyebrow at this, "My resident Geek Boy couldn't do all of his homework?"

"Shut up." Sam said playfully.

"So should we go check out this house? Maybe Gertrude was buried there, if we are lucky maybe James was buried there too."

New York, New York 

"Great, friggin' fantastic." The young woman dropped the book. She replaced _libro e __animans magicus _on the dusty bookshelf, walked to the far wall and grabbed a knife.

The long silver edge glittered menacingly in the darkness of the basement. Writing on both the blade and the handle was unclear but it was obviously not English. Shifting the knife between her hands, the girl picked it up by the tip with her left hand and threw it at the target on the far side of the room.

She heard a loud crash.

Running to retrieve the knife from the target, she turned around and bolted up the stairs to the far right, stumbling before she reached the top.

Turning sharply she reached the first floor.

One of the lights was flickering, casting a shadow on the elegant woodwork.

A bloody man stood in the light of the door.

She dropped the knife and ran over to him before he collapsed.

Her father had come home.

As Dean sat in the passenger seat, Sam was already regretting letting him come along. He could hear the ragged breaths coming from his brother's pale and limp form. His eyes were a completely different matter, glowing with defiance of his health, the rules and even Sam.

"Dean?" Sam said.

"No Sam. We're doing this now."

The rest of the ride was in silence, not even the usual blare of music could be heard. Only the rumbling of the Impala's engine.

Pulling up in the Drive fifteen minutes later, the boys were greeted with the sight of an old majestic house. It was clear that a large garden was once proudly displayed in the front only to be mangled with weeds.

Walking up the brick path that lead to two huge black doors, the boys tried to find a way in. The windows were bolted and boarded, the door double locked, with a large combination lock. It was the same all around the house.

No trellises to climb up, and the only un boarded window was on the top floor, a small circular window near the roof that must have lead to a child's play area or the attic.

Dean coughed hackingly before muttering "Great."

"You seem to be feeling better." Sam said, almost smiling.

"Call it adrenaline." Dean snarkily replied, "Well, we can still—" he paused for a second and looked as though he was astonished by something, "Lost it, anyway, we can still look around the outside and the g-g-gardens." Dean let out a sneeze and grabbed his head.

"God, Dean are you okay?" Sam asked grabbing his brother.

Dean looked up into his eyes, cradling his head; their roles reversed for once, "Not really Sammy." He said after a long pause.

"Go to the car, I'll finish up here."

"No!" Dean said before wincing, "Not with out me."

"Dude, it's a salt an burn, they don't get much easier."

'I know' Dean thought, but his tongue betrayed him saying, "Please?"

Sam's eyes clouded with concern. Even when he was dying Dean never seemed to show much weakness, but for some odd reason it was coming out now.

Sam half dragged Dean to the Car, neither of them heard the small giggle of a little girl, nor saw the small child with black pigtails and a white jumper smile.

A/N: I have recently acquired a beta reader . I don't own Supernatural. Looking forward to Season three starting on October 4!! This chapter didn't come out quite like I planned, but I think it was ok… Leave a review please…

**Thx to:**

heather03nmg

pussy galore


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A/N: In all honesty I should be writing a history paper right now… but I really don't feel like it so! Another chapter and sorry for the wait!

New York, New York

His clothes were rumpled and bloody, apparently he'd run into a vampire. "Caught me by surprise." He had said, "Thought they'd all been hunted down by now." His body reeked of alcohol, as they usually did when he screwed up a job, or got someone killed, or killed something more human than the norm.

He had collapsed on his bed in his room on the second floor of the house. The white sheets on his bed were also now bloody, soaking in the stench of dried blood.

She sighed at her fathers collapsed body and looked longingly at the door of her fathers bedroom, pleading to escape. She looked back at her fathers prone form before taking off his shoes and socks and jacket. She placed them at the end of his bed, and then pulled the covers over his shoulders. She proceeded to the closet at the far end of the room, pulling out some clothes and leaving them on the windowsill.

She walked out of the room and down three flights to the kitchen, it was a miracle that he had walked up the stairs without collapsing. She reached up into the cupboard and took out a glass, she then filled it with water from the sink. Grabbing two pills from the medicine cabinet near the pantry, she ran up the stairs once again and placed the water and pills on the bedside table.

Walking up the stairs one more flight she wandered into her room. As she was closing the door she collapsed in pain. A spasm wracked her body, she bit her lip until it was bleeding to keep a scream from escaping her lips.

Long hair hung over her shoulder, she could practically feel her body changing. It stopped as quick as it had started, and when she looked into the mirror it seemed as though nothing had changed. "What the hell is happening to me?" she asked her reflection. It wasn't long before she collapsed again.

Las Vegas, New Mexico

Screeching to a halt outside of the motel, Sam dragged Dean into their room. Half-way between the house and the motel he had collapsed again, mumbling deliriously to himself. Just as the door was closing, Dean sat up whispering "They've found me…. They know who I am… Sammy, Sammy Sammy SammySammySammy!" He grabbed onto the front of his shirt, and Sam gently pushed Dean back onto the bed, gently forcing some medicine and water down his throat.

Slowly Dean relaxed into a troubled sleep, only disturbed by the deep rumbling of his lungs as he attempted to breathe around the interference that was making his brother so weak.

'I should call dad… maybe the virus was given to him by the ghost… Dean…'

Bending his tall form down to the ground he picked up his ratty brown bag, delicately taking out the titanium lined computer and dumping onto his lap. He opened the computer, the blue light illuminating his otherwise darkened face.

The next few hours were spent googling and searching the internet for any kind of ghost virus. Apparently there was an outbreak of a computer ghost virus a few years back and there were hundreds of hits with companies trying to sell their product to the frightened masses.

There were demon virus', infections such as vampirism and zombieism, but no ghostly viral afflictions, except of course death.

He slammed his computer shut just as it was getting light and slipped into bed.

Dean watched as Sam went to sleep, fighting the urge to do so himself, watching as his little brother browsed through computer sights, the colour and light changing with every new search.

He got up to try his own hand at the computer. He typed in his symptoms onto a medical website; chills, headache, cough. He came up with over two hundred, mostly variants of the flu.

He closed the computer once more, plugged it into the wall and finally succumbed to sleep.

"Dean?" Sam said upon waking up. He looked over at his brothers bed, seeing that his brother was not there he stood up with unnecessary suddenness, only to see his brother lying awkwardly on the ground, fast a sleep.

"Wha' 's it?" Dean said, muffled, obviously tired and not planning on moving anytime soon.

"So… I'm going to get some breakfast, do you want some?"

"Nah." Dean said.

Sam left.

The twenty meter walk to the check in center seemed to take forever, lost in his thoughts Sam wasn't really paying attention to what he was doing. Instead he chose to think about his brother. Dean had been sick before they had come to Las Vegas, but had he gotten worse since the ghost thing, and was that just because he had been exerting himself or was the ghost somehow using her illness and pushing on to Dean. That had to be it. Dean had a magnificent immune system, a fast metabolism and no allergies. There was no way in hell Sam was going to accept Dean was actually sick.

Suddenly, he felt a bump and collapsed to the ground.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I really, seriously, seriously, horribly hated the last chapter, there was no plot to speak of and I had no idea what I was thinking at the end. This is my attempt to salvage this story before it gets too horrible.

Dean awoke several hours later and found himself alone in the motel room. The small red letters on the clock assured him it was after noon, although the room was completely dark. Sammy was no where to be seen. 'He must have gone out to grab some food.' Dean thought, brushing away any fears he had, after all, hadn't he just left earlier to get breakfast? He felt better than he had yesterday, so he got up and went to grab a quick shower. When he got back Sam still wasn't there.

Grabbing his cell phone from the bedside table, Dean called Sam's cell. A (rather boring, in Dean's opinion) ring started up from the far side of the room. Why would Sam leave his cell phone? Dean started to freak out. Breathing hard he left the room. The impala was gone. He ran to the opening hall, where the generally had muffins and bad coffee in the mornings. No Sammy.

Dean suddenly found that he couldn't breathe. He collapsed in a fit of coughing and he could just taste blood. He gave into the blackness.

New York, New York

Going to school was a difficult task for Sara. She went to an all girl's private high school. Everyone there knew that her father traveled a lot, that her brothers and her mother had died under mysterious circumstances a few years ago. She had a few friends. None of them particularly close, but it made the days go by faster. Her grandfather, had willed her tuition to the school. Her father had received the rest of his not-quite fortune. Some of it had gone into buying guns and making sliver bullets. Most of it was still left untouched, though there was always a few thousand dollars in cash lying around the house; it was easier to leave quickly if there was some money out of the bank.

Being a hunter was a lot easier when you had a large supply of ready income, especially if it was not illegally made. Most hunters ran various credit scams, and it only increased their record when they were caught, if they were. It seemed so much more practical to have a couple thousand dollars in cash than a credit card trail.

Still, they were one of the few who had any cash to their name in their business.

She trudged up a few flights of stairs, her backpack weighing her down as she listened to her friend ramble on about something.

Sitting down in trigonometry, she felt her back begin to twitch against the back of her desk. She closed her eyes for a moment, knowing what was coming. A shooting pain that started at the small of her back and slowly wound its way around her torso. She felt her stomach muscles contracting, but maintained her concentration on the shape in front of her. As long as it looked like she was working nothing would happen.

"Emma?" her friend asked from next to her.

"Yea?" she said with as little pain in her voice as possible. 'Please don't ask if I'm alright. Please don't ask if I'm alright.'

"Can you help me with this problem?"

"I have to figure it out first. Ask Charlotte."

Penny smiled, "Ok."

Emma glanced back down at her paper. Closing her eyes she felt peace fall upon her. She could hear the song of some far away bird, the contorted waves of the polluted East River. Grimacing she opened her eyes again. The pain was gone. Sighing she went back to her work.

Las Vegas, New Mexico

Alta Vista Regional Hospital

Dean woke up to a tight feeling around his mouth. He found himself immobile; an IV tube dripping into the top of his left hand, which made it almost impossible to move without a mild pain in his hand, despite the obvious numbness in the area. A respirator was hooked up to his mouth, a mask, fortunately there was nothing stuck down his throat.

A faint voice swam into his mild state of delirium. "Mr. Paltroniski? Kevin?"

"Sam?" which ended up more like "Thamp?"

A short, blonde head popped into view.

"Mr. Paltroniski? Hello, I'm your nurse, Elsie, you can take off the mask for short periods of time, but you have to put it back quickly. You have a mildly-severe case of pneumonia, which could have proved fatal had you not attempted to go outside of your hotel room where the manager found you." Dean was amazed, somehow the nurse had managed to say that entire sentence in one breath and was clearly coming back for more, "Your doctor, Jenkins, will be in to see you very soon, he can tell you way more about your condition than I can. Do you have any questions?"

He the mask slightly off his face, but suddenly it was a little hard to breathe, "Where's my brother?" he said before putting back on the mask.

"I don't know, he hasn't come in yet, I could probably call the motel your staying at and see if the manager has seen him. What does he look like?"

"Freakishly tall—"

"By freakish do you mean like seven feet tall or something, 'cuz if he's that tall I have no idea how you managed to loose him."

Dean closed his eyes in exasperation before quickly responding "He's about Six Three, Six Four, Longish hair, brown, greenish eyes." He took a breath from the mask, "He has my car, it's a '67 impala."

"Ok, I'll let the sheriffs office know." She smiled, a gap in her teeth suddenly apparent.

"Thanks."

As she waddled out Dean could hear a voice say "Always the boys and their cars, can love someone to pieces but lay one hand on their car and its like you've killed their firstborn."

He succumbed back into sleep.

Las Vegas, New Mexico

He had awoken briefly in the impala, and continued to be in and out of consciousness for the next twenty minutes, A dirt road beneath the car and finally a screeching halt in front of an old oak tree.

The door swung open and he was shoved out onto the weed-strewn grass. A large, dark house loomed a head of him. The boards were gone from the windows, piled on the ground outside haphazardly. The door was just barely ajar, beckoning Sam into the house.

A/N: Sorry for ending on a cliffy, and to make things worse this will be my last update for a while (sorry to anyone who actually follows this) because I have exams right before Spring Break… what can I say, my school is weird. Information about Las Vegas, New Mexico taken from Google.


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